


No tears for you

by unknownlifeform



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, sephiroth cannot process a single feeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknownlifeform/pseuds/unknownlifeform
Summary: Zack comes back from his successful mission in Modeoheim.Sephiroth just tries to act the way a SOLDIER acts.
Relationships: Angeal Hewley & Sephiroth, Genesis Rhapsodos & Sephiroth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	No tears for you

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just wrote this today and needed to drop it here.  
> Title is from Weak by Skunk Anansie which is the entire mood for this piece.

Zack was dragging his feet as he walked. Uncharacteristically subdued. Head bowed, fist tightened at his sides. Sephiroth wondered if the way Zack's shoulders were bent was due to the additional weight on his back. Not many weapons were as big and heavy as the Buster Sword.

He had his back to Sephiroth. Didn't seem to notice him. Sephiroth decided not to make Zack aware of his presence. It was clear that he was emotionally distressed, and Sephiroth was aware of his own lack of skills when it came to offering support. His first thought had been to tell Zack to straighten up, that a First Class SOLDIER shouldn't go around with his posture slack like that. He suspected it was not something Zack would have wanted to hear.

He'd let Zack have his moment. His mission had been a success, Sephiroth could allow him to be... emotional.

As Zack disappeared behind a corner, Sephiroth resumed walking. He had been heading back to his quarters, as opposed to Zack who seemed to be going to the training areas. That was good. It meant they wouldn't have to cross path.

Sephiroth wasn't sure why the idea of meeting Zack now filled him with something similar to anger. He had no reason to be angry at Zack. He had done nothing to offend Sephiroth. If anything, Sephiroth should feel grateful Zack had been taking care of duties Sephiroth was not keen on.

There was a pair of Seconds chatting by the elevators. They both quieted when Sephiroth stopped next to them, greeting him with a formal _sir._ Sephiroth didn't bother to reply. The honorific had grated on his ears. He felt like being alone, not having to put up with others. Let alone people who called him sir.

Which was a somewhat ridiculous thought. Everyone called him sir in Shinra, except the President and his board, but Sephiroth tended to avoid those people as far as possible. Zack didn't call him sir either, having at some point dropped formalities with him.  That boy was unnervingly friendly.

The other two people who didn't call Sephiroth sir were deserters.  And dead.

Bizarre, that Zack would be able to deal with both Angeal and Genesis, Sephiroth thought as he stepped into the elevator. The Second Classes did not follow him. Sephiroth pressed the button to his quarters' floor, and not for the first time found himself wondering how had Zack been able to defeat them. Sephiroth would have been able to, but Sephiroth was Sephiroth. Zack was a talented swordsman, but still fresh in terms of experience.

According to his report, Angeal had turned himself in some kind of monster for their fight. Maybe that was what had given Zack the edge. The shock of transformation could have thrown Angeal's skills off. As for Genesis, he had apparently thrown himself in a reactor. Absurd, to think that Genesis would end his life. He had been many things, but never suicidal.

Then again, Sephiroth had had to resign himself to the fact he might have never known Genesis at all.

There was always the chance Genesis was still alive. Zack had dealt Angeal a killing blow, but Genesis's body hadn't been recovered. And he could fly now. He could have always saved himself at the last moment. It certainly seemed dramatic enough to be in character for him.

As the elevator's doors opened, Sephiroth asked himself whether or not it was truly likely for Genesis to have saved himself. He had never shown suicidal tendencies, but neither had Angeal. Neither of them had ever been in any apparent danger of desertion, and yet they had gone. It was hard to make any prediction. Not when Genesis's behavior was so erratic.

One advantage of knowing your enemy should be being able to understand what his next moves would be. At least, it should be. Now Sephiroth found himself constantly confused, trying to reconcile Genesis's old attitude with his new actions. Angeal's, too, but Angeal was no longer anyone's problem.

In his quarters, Sephiroth went to fetch himself a glass of water. On the top shelf of his cabinet was an assortment of tupperware with sharpie letters on it. They had accumulated over years of Angeal giving Sephiroth homemade lunch, claiming it was good for him to occasionally eat better food than what Shinra gave him. Sephiroth had usually given Angeal the tupperware back, after having cleaned it. Now it just sat there. Sephiroth supposed that as of Zack's mission two days prior he could officially consider the plastic boxes his own.

He'd have to find a better place for them. He barely used tupperware.

He could also throw them away. As if by association, Angeal's voice seemed to pop into Sephiroth's mind, telling him it would be a waste. They were in perfect state. No need to get rid of them.

They still had to be removed from that shelf. It wasn't their right place, and Sephiroth was quite particular about keeping his living space in perfect order. It was the annoyance of disorganization, he supposed, that made him slam the cabinet shut with a little more force than was necessary. He didn't want to see them there. The kitchen was his, wasn't it? There should be no need for Angeal's things to be in it. None.

Sephiroth needed to take a shower. He walked to his bedroom, undoing his armor. He also needed to clean his pauldrons, he thought taking them off. There was some dirt starting to settle there. He could almost picture Genesis sighing dramatically and telling him not to be a slob about his appearance.

Not that Sephiroth was. Genesis had just always been particular about it.

He fished in a drawer, looking for his PHS's charger. His fingers bumped against a framed picture. It was turned face down. Sephiroth ignored it, not attempting to flip it the right side up. It used to be on display next to his bed, one of the few frivolous possessions he owned. It had been in that position inside the drawer for weeks now. Sephiroth was the highest ranking officer in Shinra, and even in the privacy of his own quarters it wouldn't do for him to display a picture of himself with two deserters.

He could throw away that one. Maybe he could reuse the frame, but there was really no need to keep the picture. Pictures didn't have a practical use. They could have an emotional one, at most, it could make one's friends happy to find a picture of themselves in one's house. It could make the friends joke that maybe the owner of the picture did have a heart after all, in a teasing way that meant no harm.

That picture no longer served said use. It was only there to drag up memories Sephiroth should leave buried.  It didn't do, to think back to happier times, if those memories could make Sephiroth softer towards traitors. 

Maybe it wouldn't matter anymore now. Dead traitors can do no harm. Only their memory could still kick and claw at something raw under Sephiroth's lungs.

He had a few reports to go over, but he'd do that after having showered. It wouldn't take him long, anyways. He had always been taught to be utilitarian with his care. Turn on the water, get under the stream long enough to wet his skin and hair, turn off the water to grab the soap. If it weren't for his hair care, Sephiroth doubted he'd ever spend more than three minutes under the shower.

Not like someone else he had known, who always spent ages under the stream, despite his short hair taking much less time to clean than Sephiroth's. The same someone who had once put flower scented shampoo in Sephiroth's shower as a joke. Neither he nor Sephiroth had expected Sephiroth to take a liking to it.

Angeal had said something weird the first time he had noticed the flowery scent, something along the lines of how it was good that Sephiroth was making his own choices. Sephiroth hadn't understood then. It was just shampoo. It hadn't seemed to him that it would matter much what scent it had.

Looking back now, he recognized that it was probably one of the first choices he had made in terms of personal care. Even if small, it had indeed been something big for the boy raised in the labs. Angeal hadn't been too wrong to be glad.

Sephiroth turned the water back on. It still seemed unbelievable that Angeal was dead. It shouldn't be. Angeal had been just a man, and all man, sooner or later, die. One day, so would Sephiroth. It should not be jarring to think of someone as dead.

Yet another thing about Angeal that Sephiroth's brain did not seem to fully accept. It shouldn't be hard to. He should even be glad, maybe, because Angeal had turned himself into an enemy of Shinra. His termination should be something to celebrate. A successful mission. 

Maybe the reason Sephiroth struggled to accept it was that he had not been there to see it happen. Maybe because he would have wanted to be the one to go to Modeoheim, grab Angeal by his uniform and ask him just what was the problem with him. Why had he let himself be swept off in Genesis's madness. What was it that had happened to him that Sephiroth didn't know. What was Shinra involvement in it.

Sephiroth should get out of the shower soon. He'd be wasting water if he kept standing there, unmoving.

Not that Shinra was running out of water anytime soon. The only thing Shinra was short on lately were SOLDIERs.

And warmth. The Tower seemed so cold lately. Even if it was spring. Warm water rolled off of Sephiroth's skin and he still some part of him still felt like it was freezing.

He supposed that's what happened when someone ran away taking all his Fire Materia with him. Sephiroth didn't think he would have ever missed Genesis's pyromaniac tendencies, and yet he did. He missed their afternoons in the training room. Sephiroth could ask Zack now to train with him, but it wouldn't be the same. There was something Zack didn't have.

He really was wasting water now. There was no need for him to stand there in thought. Just like there was no reason for him not to go through half the content of his drawers and throw it all out. Get rid of all those things he didn't need. Useless trinkets, memories of a couple traitors who hadn't even deigned to explain themselves to him before disappearing.

There was a scream lodged somewhere in Sephiroth's throat. It had been there for weeks now, and he didn't know how to make it leave. It was close to the surface now. Still, it refused to move. It didn't want to go down, nor did it seem to plan on making its way out of Sephiroth's mouth. It was just there to choke him.

He should only be angry at Angeal and Genesis. And he was, but it was not the right kind of anger. Sephiroth wasn't good with putting names to feelings, but he could tell this shade of rage wasn't what a good SOLDIER should feel for deserters. It was sticky and bitter and painful.  It burnt a hole inside of Sephiroth, and another feeling pooled into that hole like mud. 

Sephiroth had done his best to put his duty as SOLDIER before anything else ever since Genesis had started this. He hadn't always managed, but he had to be doing a worst job than he thought if what he was feeling for those traitors was grief.


End file.
